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by Unknown

  Hitler’s demand that a German manufacturer should enter Grand Prix racing was met by the old firm of Mercedes-Benz and a brand new one – Auto Union - both of which which produced Grand Prix cars for 1934. He also brought all German motor sport under state control, placing it in the hands of Major Adolf Huhnlein. A professional soldier, Huhnlein was given the title Korpsfuhrer and headed the ONS (Oberste Nationale Sportbehorde fur die Deutsche Kraftfahrt). He was responsible for the organisation of all racing, rallying and record attempts on German soil, but he had no hand in the racing programmes of Mercedes-Benz and Auto Union; that was left to the boards of directors.

  From now on motor racing, and Grand Prix racing in particular, was run on military lines with a heavy military presence. As I explained in Racing The Silver Arrows:

  ‘Nazi propaganda - of which the German Grand Prix programme was very much a part - was not just to impress the rest of the world, it was for home consumption, too. Paul Joseph Goebbels, Hitler’s brilliant but evil Minister for Propaganda, had a positive genius for theatrical display and made sure - through Huhnlein - that events such as the German Grand Prix and the Eifel and AVUS rennen were not just motor races, but demonstrations of German power, panoply and efficiency. Nazi flags and banners flew everywhere; thousands of jack-booted soldiers lined the course and others goose-stepped up and down before the packed grandstands while the racing cars were lined up in front of the pits.’

  Thus the Nurburg-Ring became a showcase for German technical excellence in the form of the cars from Mercedes-Benz and Auto Union, which dominated Grand Prix racing for the next six years.

  The circuit was constantly improved, despite the economic situation. In 1932 an enormous amount of fencing was put up to protect the spectators. It must also have been to keep them off the track which, at 14.2 miles, was very hard to police, even when the Army took over in 1933. The next year the road surface was improved at various places and several corners were banked to one degree or another. In 1935 the ‘Mercedes-Benz hill’ at the North Turn was levelled because it obstructed the view of those in the main grandstand. The earth was moved to the South Turn to improve seating there.

  Quite simply, there was nothing like the Nurburg-Ring anywhere in the world and a visit proved to be quite an experience, as Motor Sport’s un-named contributor informed his readers after the 1936 GP:

  ‘We arrived at Adenau on the Friday night before the Grand Prix which was to take place on Sunday. Fortunately, we had taken the precaution of reserving a room in a private house on our way south a fortnight previously. As it happened we were a little apprehensive about finding the room still available, because the arrangement had been made with a voluble, smiling hotel porter with whom we had deposited “one English pound.” True to his word he greeted us on our arrival in the crowded village street and conducted us to a comfortable room in a house over a garage. Remembering the tales we had heard of all-night streams of traffic through the village we were glad to note that our abode was in a quiet side street. Just how quiet this street was to prove we discovered later.

  ‘We tried the Krone for dinner, but no longer was it the sleepy little hotel of a fortnight before, The tables were crowded with excited Germans, eating as only Germans can eat. We endeavoured to show them, then and throughout the evening, that they are not the only people who can drink...

  ‘The next morning a party of wan-cheeked enthusiasts congregated at the “Start und Ziel” of the Nurburg-Ring to watch the practicing. Motor racing in Germany is motor racing in style. The long restaurant under the grandstand, with tables outside as well, provides a “boulevard atmosphere”, but the passing cars were doing a steady 150 mph instead of a top-gear crawl. Fortified by Steinhagers or Enzians, according to choice, we were able to take an intelligent interest in the proceedings and realised for the first time that at the next table a cheerful party was in progress consisting of Hans and Frau Stuck, the Rosemeyers and Prince zu Leiningen...

  ‘Exciting noises in the paddock made us hurriedly gulp down our drinks, and armed with our official brassards we entered the holy of holies. The Ferrari Alfas were warming up and soon they shot through the tunnel up to the course. Richard Seaman was watching his works Maserati being checked on the weighbridge. It was found unnecessary to file off bits and pieces to make the weight limit. We followed the Alfas to the pits... Fascinated, we watched the great Nuvolari spend at least five minutes adjusting his headgear, making sure that his helmet was on securely and that the goggles were not too tight. While he was so engaged we examined the cockpit of his car and noticed the little wedges on each side of the seat which prevent him from rolling about. Brivio, Dreyfus, Severi and Nuvolari all covered several laps, coming past the pits at a fine bat.

  ‘The Merc drivers put in one fast lap each, and then the cars were taken round several short circuits of the South Curve and back past the pits. Meanwhile, Wimille had covered several laps and then, after lunch, came a roar from the Auto Union depot behind the restaurant. With short, sharp barks from their stubby exhaust pipes the squat, silver projectiles appeared from their lair, and soon they were streaking round the Ring at terrific speed

  ‘Chastened by our debauch of the previous evening we retired early, and it was just as well we did. At four o’clock we were wakened by the tramp of many boots, as of an army marching “at ease”. Then from a loudspeaker suspended from a house a few doors away blared a military march, and the dreadful truth dawned on us. The first of the 120 special trains had arrived, and our quiet little side street was the pedestrian route from the station! The march changed to an announcement that that the train excursionists were to meet in the Marktplatz in the evening at 9-20 pm.

  ‘This went on for an hour or so, and when we had heard the instructions about the Marktplatz for the hundredth time we decided to do some marching ourselves. The main street of Adenau was roped off each side so that pedestrians should not suddenly step into the path of the traffic, and wooden bridges across the road were erected to avoid holding up the traffic flow. What is generally known as “typical German thoroughness.”

  ‘On race days the six miles from Adenau to the “Start und Ziel” takes about two hours to cover, so we made use of our Press pass on the car to join the circuit at Adenau Bridge. The run round the Ring in the early morning was exhilarating. Thousands of spectators had camped out all night, and now they were breakfasting round camp fires. The loudspeakers disseminated cheerful music and the portable soup kitchens good cheer. Our arrival at the Karussell-kurve brought the spectators running to the railings and occasionally we received a cheer.

  ‘At 7.15 am we were strolling round the paddock, where Guidotti was covering innumerable circles in order to warm up the Alfa Romeos’ axle grease and gear-box oil. Sommer’s Alfa was having its wheels balanced and the Maseratis were having a final polish.

  ‘As the hour of the start drew nearer the crowd grew even more dense. The motor-cycle police arrived, lead by a band, and the black-helmeted ranks made an impressive sight. We took our seats in the grandstand just as the cars were pushed from the pits to the starting grid.

  ‘Korpsfuhrer Huhnlein, Germany’s motor sport leader, walked up to a microphone in the middle of the track. He glared around him for silence. Then, with incredible ferocity, he barked out his speech: “Men and women of Germany....”

  ‘Engines were started and the noise grew terrific. There was much blue smoke and running about. The starter’s flag was raised, dropped and with a thunderous roar the race was on...

  ‘And so it was “Shrimp” Rosemeyer’s race, and by winning he gained the title of champion of Germany. Frau Rosemeyer -Beinhorn that was - watched the race with Frau Stuck in the Auto Union pits, and the enthusiasm of the crowd was complete at the end of the race. Then the Nazi anthem was played, and a forest of arms swore allegiance to the Fuhrer. The mobile guards meanwhile lined the track with arms linked by rods of steel, and then marched past singing a song.

  ‘All very impressive, but
rather tedious when you have seen too much of it. But the organisation is undeniably perfect, and with all its amenities the Nurburg-Ring is undoubtedly the finest racing track in Europe.’

  Where the reference to “Shrimp” Rosemeyer came from is a mystery, but he restored the German GP to its home country after Tazio Nuvolari’s stunning victory the year before. Once Adolf Hitler’s demand for a German manufacturer to enter GP racing in 1934 had been met by not one, but two companies, the Nazis doubtless expected the German Grand Prix to be won by a German car and driver as a matter of course, but they reckoned without a couple of foreigners. Hitler had no problem with his teams using foreign drivers (Luigi Fagioli, Louis Chiron and Dick Seaman at Mercedes; Achille Varzi, Luigi Fagioli and Tazio Nuvolari at Auto Union) - it simply showed the world that the best drivers had to come to Germany for the best cars - but the idea that one of them might win the German GP at the Nurburgring never seems to have occurred to anyone. Step forward Tazio Nuvolari (1935) and Dick Seaman (1938).

  In the event, these intruders were not too hard to accept, for although Nuvolari’s genius enabled him to defeat the full might of Mercedes and Auto Union in an inferior Alfa Romeo, Italy was a Fascist regime whose dictator, Benito Mussolini, was friendly to Nazi Germany. Dick Seaman was an Englishman and by 1938 England was being decidedly unfriendly towards the Nazis, but at least he won the race in a Mercedes-Benz, and only because race leader Manfred von Brauchitsch was deprived of victory when his Mercedes caught fire in the pits.

  Sadly, the Germans continued to swear allegiance to Adolf Hitler and his Nazis, which would lead to catastrophe. Late in 1938, after Britain's Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, had returned from Munich claiming 'Peace in our time', there seemed to be some hope for the world, but by the time of the German GP in July 1939, that hope was fading fast. However, the worsening political situation did not prevent Rodney Walkerley from advising readers of The Motor to go to Germany and see the Grand Prix for themselves:

  ‘An immense crowd is expected at the race, which is a sort of National festival (politics permitting), and quite half a million people have attended races there in the past. English enthusiasts toying with the idea of going over should not be deterred by thoughts of hostility from the populace. Adenau and the Ring are in a country district remote from civilisation, and everyone there is a racing enthusiast, from the Head Nazi downwards, and in motor racing there is a common bond which rises above frontiers, thank goodness.

  ‘You can go to the race and back during a short week-end, leaving London on Saturday afternoon, returning Monday morning. I append some details of how to do it.

  How to get to the Ring.

  Details from any travel bureau. Trains leave Victoria, July 22 at 10.30 am for Aachen (via Dover-Ostend), whence by motor coach to and from Ring. Train arrives back at Victoria July 24 at 7.20 am or 4.20 pm. First-class travel: £5-17s 4d; third-class: £2 15s lOd. Coach from Aachen 7s per head. Stand tickets (from 2s 6d to 16s) from AA, RAC or travel bureaux.'

  Anyone who took Walkerley’s advice would have been well rewarded, witness to the last victory in the remarkable career of the greatest Ringmeister of all, Rudolf Caracciola. To date there had been 12 German Grands Prix (including the first one at AVUS in 1926) and German drivers had won nine. Six of those belonged to Caracciola (1926, 1928 with Christian Werner, 1931, 1932, 1937 and 1939), while Otto Merz (1927), Hans Stuck (1934) and Bernd Rosemeyer (1936) had scored one victory each. Only three foreign drivers had disturbed the German domination: Louis Chiron in 1929; Tazio Nuvolari in 1935 and Dick Seaman in 1938, but that situation was to be reversed dramatically after the war, for Rudolf Caracciola’s victory in the 1939 Grand Prix was to be the last ever by a German driver at the Nurburg-Ring.

  PHASE TWO : 1940 -1949

  It would be 11 years before the German Grand Prix returned to the Nurburg-Ring. During the war the circuit was left largely unattended, although in 1940 Auto Union spent 41 days there, testing four of their cars, doubtless in the hope that hostilities, would soon be over and motor racing would be resumed. Fat chance!

  The circuit itself was used by the German military for driver instruction and vehicle testing. In time the Sport Hotel became a reception area for bombing victims who had been evacuated from the cities and later it served as a military hospital. The car park by the start/finish area was turned into farmland for cows and sheep and the Mercedes-Benz tower by the North Turn was used as stables for cows, pigs and chickens. In 1943 the 29 miles/35 km of fencing around the circuit was removed and used for the war effort.

  On March 8, 1945 US Sherman tanks arrived in Mullenbach, the small town to the west of the Sudschleife. The Commanding Officer was aware of the nearby racetrack and realised that his tanks could get to the village of Nurburg far quicker if they used the circuit rather than going overland.

  At 3 pm the tanks entered the Sudschleife and headed east, their tracks tearing up the road surface. Thinking that there might be some German troops in the Sport Hotel, the CO split his force into two parts, the first heading direct for the start/finish area. On arrival the Americans searched the hotel and other buildings for any signs of military life, but found none. What they did find was an archive of racing photographs and documents.

  Months later the Nurburg-Ring became part of the French zone of occupied Germany. Unlike the Americans, the French were well aware of the history of the circuit on which in 1929 their hero, Louis Chiron in his little Bugatti, had defeated the vast Mercedes SSK of Rudolf Caracciola to win the German Grand Prix. At the end of September, 1946, the French Military Government ordered that the Nurburg-Ring’s Sudschleife be prepared for a race in May, 1947.

  This caused consternation among the local officials for, as Herr Urbanus, Landrat of the Ahrweiler District, recalled in 1957, ‘Those who knew the world’s most beautiful racetrack before the war were horrified by the condition in which it had been left by the American “visitors” in 1945.

  ‘Although the area was not mined, the road surface of the Sudschleife had been torn up by the American tanks and the Sport-Hotel and other buildings had suffered from their long German and US military occupation. Also, the trees around the circuit had been neglected for so many years that their uppermost branches almost touched each other above the track and poplars grew rampant out of the tarmac’

  Putting this right was going to cost a lot of money, of which Germany had very little. However, in order to get the Sudschleife up and running again all the access roads would have to be repaired, which could only benefit the whole area, so some 300 workers were brought in to repair the track, the grandstand/Sport-Hotel, the garage square, the telephone lines and loudspeaker system.

  It soon became clear that a race in May, 1947 was out of the question, so it was rescheduled for July 27. The French Military Government decided that it would be an international race on the Sudschleife, which meant that German cars and drivers were to be excluded, as they were not yet allowed to compete in international events.

  This meeting was eventually cancelled but finally, on August 17, after a lull of eight years, the Nurburg-Ring was once again alive with the sounds of racing engines. However, the sounds were not those of V12 Mercedes and Auto Unions, as in 1939, but of motorcycle engines for the event, the Eifelpokal, was for motorbikes only.

  The Race Director was Willy Seibel (who had raced Bugattis in the twenties and thirties) and Sportcommissar was pre-war motorcycle ace, Hans Soenius. Two stars from the past, Schorsch Meier and H.P. Muller, provided a big attraction for the sports-starved fans, more than 80,000 of whom turned up to see their beloved NurburgRing reborn. Admission cost five Marks, which also bought a coupon for wine, bread and sausage.

  The success of this event persuaded the German authorities that the Nordschleife, too, should be brought back to life, as it would invigorate the entire Eifel population, just as Dr Otto Creutz had foreseen in 1925. There was no racing in 1948 while the work was in progress, but on August 7, 1949 the Eifel GP was h
eld for German competitors with racing cars, sportscars and motorcycles.

  Next on the agenda was the first post-war German Grand Prix.

  PHASE THREE: 1950-1969

  All the reconstruction work paid off in 1950 when the German Grand Prix returned to the Nurburgring on August 20. As there were no German cars available to race in what was then known as Formula A, the GP was run for Formula B, unsuperchanged cars of up to 2 litres and entries were received from both Scuderia Ferrari and Officine Maserati.

  In The Autocar Gordon Wilkins wrote: ‘The announcement that 400,000 people paid to see the 13th German Grand Prix on Sunday will cause more surprise here than it did in Germany, for huge crowds are a feature of post-war racing in the Western Zones and a similar crowd gathered for the races on the Solitude circuit near Stuttgart the previous week. However, to foreign observers seeing racing in post-war Germany for the first time it was astonishing to watch the thousands coming from the bombed cities of the Ruhr and the rolling country of the south by car, bus, bicycle and on foot to converge on the remote Nurburg Ring in the Eifel Mountains for 24 hours before the racing began. On Saturday night their camp fires twinkled on the hillsides for miles around and the sound of singing and accordions was borne on the evening breeze to the great grandstand, which is also an hotel, where many of the hundred drivers gathered for the meeting were billeted.

  ‘It was a great occasion, for it sealed the readmission of Germany into free competition in the international car races of the West (the motor cycles do not come in until next year) and it gave the Germans a chance to match their new cars, the Veritas, AFMs, Monopolettas, the Scampolos and the hosts of specials built from BMW and Volkswagen parts, against the cars of Western countries. Ready to drive them were world-famous prewar stars like Hermann Lang, Manfred von Brauchitsch and Hans Stuck, alongside new drivers already famous in Germany, like Ulmen, Riess, and the Gloecker brothers.’